


Desecration

by ardett



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Moral Ambiguity, Senses, voltron people don't get excited this is super super old writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:15:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29884440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardett/pseuds/ardett
Summary: Hunk thinks on all that's changed and all that's remained the same.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Desecration

**Author's Note:**

> written for the unfortunately failed [Hunk Appreciate zine](https://hunk-appreciation-zine.tumblr.com/)
> 
> and for any vld people who may be excited to see me posting new voltron piece, please don't get your hopes up this piece is 4 years old, I'm just posting backdated works to try and use archive as, well, an archive 
> 
> Posted: March 6th, 2021

**THOUGHT**

_ The world could be a place of kindness. This Hunk knew. _

The universe is not kind. This Hunk has learned.

**TOUCH**

_ His hands used to create things of joy, of goodness. He remembered the soft kneed of dough and the chalky slip of flour between his fingers. He remembered wayward grains of sugar sticking to the bottoms of his bare feet and the gentle bend of a heart shaped cookie cutter. He remembered the warmth of a heating oven and the glow of cookies lit from within. _

His hands can destroy and destruct. His fingers grow rough with callouses from so many triggers pulled, so many blasts sustained. His whole body is covered in dirt and grime, tiny cuts that become lasting scars. The burning heat of his canon is seared into the flesh of his cheek.

**SIGHT**

_ The people who stopped in were as sweet as the pastries in the window display. Hunk watched some of them eat whole treats in one bite, while others pulled apart croissants in delicate strips. Some came alone and worked in the corner with headphones plugged in and hoods up, only a hot chocolate and some extra marshmallows to keep them company. Others traded their goodies for a kiss and had someone to hand them a napkin with a laugh. They all walked away with bright eyes and greasy palms. Hunk watched them leave out a gold trimmed window pane between the flow of cursive letters. _

Every time, Hunk is astounded at the cruelty he witnesses. The enslavement of whole planets, the horror of seeing chains on another living, breathing being; it is beyond what he can comprehend. Some planets aren’t deemed worthy of enslavement at all but are rather drained of all life, left as frozen debris and empty memories floating amongst the black of space. More horrible still is the blood sport, the gladiator rings, that ripped families apart and sentenced one to a lifetime of blood and rage and death. All who lived in the Galra empire are dead eyed and bloody handed. Voltron is above it in their fortress hovering over every planet’s surface, but Hunk saw it all out reinforced portholes and through holo-screens.

**TASTE**

_ Hunk used to be able to taste happiness on his tongue, all the goodness of hard work and of labor and love. He remembered brownies almost too rich for his palette, chocolate dark as pure cocoa, milk chocolate smooth as sun kissed skin, white chocolate sweet enough to linger between his teeth. He remembered the simple taste of lemonade, so cool on days so hot that he felt it slide down his throat and slip into his veins. He remembered the taste of grapes, just grapes, and how he used to eat them with his friends as they lay on the green during the height of summer. He remembered the taste of his mother’s cookies, his father’s traditional dishes, his grandmother’s pastries. He remembered the taste of the food they made together, their loving fingerprints imprinted on his tongue. _

Hunk has forgotten the taste of anything except green goo and the bitterness of blood, sweat and tears. It has been… difficult. Everything is just a little off. Similar enough in taste but the wrong texture entirely. The consistency may be on point but it might be as bland as air. He used to find baking therapeutic, soothing, but now it only causes him more stress. It reminds him of all that has been left behind.

**SMELL**

_ He used to smell the sweet scent of newly baked goods and fresh flowers. The food was made by their own hands but the flowers were brought in by generous patrons. It was a close knit community, so Hunk knew the faces that stopped in once a week, the smiles that stopped in daily. And their customers knew them as well. After a free cup of coffee, an extra unpaid for cookie, sometimes flowers were given in return. Hunk had been told many times that he had a bit of pollen dusting his nose but he couldn’t help himself from smelling the lovely blooms. When he first began shadowing his grandmother in the bakery, he had badly burned a batch of bread and the smell of smoke and charr lingered for a week every time they opened the oven. But it had only been a week. _

Now the smell of smoke is more familiar to him than his memories of soft scents. He has learned the smell of things he never wanted to know. The metallic quality of blood and the sickening odor of death. The merest whiff can make his stomach betray him. They have all taken to sealing their helmets if they realize they are battling real Galra, not droids, or if they must make the sometimes long retreat across desolate battlefields.

**SOUND**

_ The ding of the oven used to startle him. It was such an innocent thing, the delightful chime of an internal bell. It heralded such a lovely thing as well, the promise of something delicious and something he would be able to share. _

It’s laughable that he used to find the oven’s ding surprising. Now his ears are deadened to the blast of his cannon, louder than any fireworks show. It is the sound of destruction and it too promises something: death.

**THOUGHT**

_ He used to be kind and good. _

The universe he has sworn to defend has corrupted him.

**(But one day he would return to Earth and he would be kind and good again.)**


End file.
